


Out of Hand

by torino10154



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Community: hp_nextgen_fest, Frottage, HP Next Gen Fest 2018, Harry Potter Next Generation, Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Spanking, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-04 03:36:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16339079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torino10154/pseuds/torino10154
Summary: Al gets into constant trouble at school and Harry is at his wit's end. Maybe a firm hand will set him right.





	Out of Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to M for beta reading.

"This is the third time you've been sent to see the Headmistress this term," Harry said, exasperated with his middle child. "I've taken your broom and your Hogsmeade weekend privileges. Do I need to pull you out of Hogwarts entirely to make you behave?"

"Corporal punishment."

Al and Harry both turned to look at the blank canvas over Al's bed. He'd inherited the bedroom with Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait and, being Slytherins, they seemed to have taken to each other. 

"I've never raised a hand against my children, Phineas," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Which might explain why they have such poor discipline," Phineas continued with a sniff. "Particularly this one. Mere threats don't work with Slytherins."

Harry turned back toward Al... who didn't look all that concerned. 

"Do you think I won't do it?" 

Al had the audacity to snicker. "No, you won't."

Harry's temper flared hot. He sat down on the edge of Al's bed. "Over my knee."

"You're joking," Al replied though he sounded like even he wasn't sure of it.

"Albus Severus Potter," Harry said through clenched teeth. "Now."

Al walked slowly toward him something in his expression that Harry couldn't identify, certainly not through the haze of rage currently colouring his field of vision.

"Traditionally, one should drop trou—" 

"That's enough, Phineas," Harry said sharply. "Leave."

"Hmph," was heard in reply, then silence.

"Lift your robes," Harry said, hardly recognising his own voice.

"What?" Al squawked.

"You heard what your _mentor_ Phineas said. If you want to be the perfect Slytherin, you should follow the protocol."

Al narrowed his eyes, his jaw tightening. "This is insane. I am not a child!"

"You're right. You're seventeen years old." Harry inhaled, trying to calm himself. "Drop your pants and bend over if you ever want to see the walls of your Hogwarts dormitory again."

With a growl of rage, Al shoved his pants down past his knees then drew his robes up around his waist. 

"Over my knee," he repeated, trying to avoid looking at Al's groin.

Al leaned across Harry's lap and Harry was surprised at his weight. It had been a long time since he'd carried any of his children and Al was clearly more muscled than his frame would have suggested.

It was utterly strange having him laid across his lap, feet on tiptoe and fingers digging into Harry's thigh.

"Right," Harry said aloud, though more to himself than Al. He looked at his son's bare, pale bottom and nearly lost his nerve. It was practically perfect. Muscled and round. Firm. He shook his head. What was the matter with him? This was his son, after all.

"How many do you think you need to get it through your thick skull that Hogwarts is a place of learning not a club, amusement park, or casino?"

"I think," Al said darkly, "that I can take more than you can give."

Harry had never shied away from a challenge. It was both a benefit and a flaw. 

"We'll see about that." He raised his hand and brought it down hard. "One!" he shouted, his hand stinging. 

Al cried out and Harry could see the clear impression of his hand, bright red on white skin.

"Two!" He smacked the other cheek with just as much force.

"Three! Four! Five!" Harry began raining his hand down with all his strength, fast and furious.

Al rocked forward against his thigh, straining to get away from Harry's repeated slaps.

It wasn't until he reached thirteen that Harry realised two things. Al was getting hard. And so was he.

Just adrenaline, he told himself, trying to keep his body from brushing against Al's side, but there was nothing he could do to stop Al from rutting against him with every strike of his hand. He could feel his hardness, the thick, hot length of him burning his leg like a brand and sending a spike of desire coursing through him straight to his own cock.

When he finally felt under control, he looked at Al's bottom and gasped. No longer merely red, it was purpling in spots, clearly bruised. His fingertips traced over the hot, raised marks and Al moaned. 

It wasn't a moan of pain though. 

Harry's cock throbbed.

"Have you had enough?" Harry said, sure he'd broken a blood vessel in the fatty part of his hand near his thumb.

Al didn't reply but pushed himself against Harry's leg thrice more, shuddering as a whimper escaped his lips as he came, wetness spreading between them.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, doing everything possible to stave off his own orgasm. 

"I—I should put some salve on these, Al," Harry choked out, caught between horror at what he'd done and horror at what he was thinking about doing now.

"Please," Al breathed, his hips continuing to move lazily.

" _Accio_ bruise paste!" Harry said and held out his hand to catch the jar flying into the room from the bath down the corridor. 

He dipped his fingers into the cool unguent and lightly spread some over Al's cheek.

Al hissed then sighed. 

Harry dipped his fingers again and put more on the other cheek, rubbing more firmly this time.

Al's cock was fully hard again, rubbing and thrusting against Harry.

Swallowing hard and damning himself to hell, Harry dipped his fingers into the paste a third time but instead of smoothing it over Al's heated skin, he slipped them between his arsecheeks.

"Yesss," Al said with a hiss of pleasure, pushing back against Harry's fingertips, urging him on. 

Harry watched, mesmerised, as his finger disappeared into Al's arse before pulling it out and pushing it in again. 

When he added a second finger, Al moaned low in his throat and he started moving faster again.

"Oh, fuck, Dad!" he shouted, muscles clamping down on Harry's fingers as he shuddered through a second orgasm.

Harry couldn't do anything to stop it when he heard Al call his name and he sat frozen as he came as well, pulsing thickly into his pants.

Waves of shock and revulsion washed over him as he considered what had just occurred. How could he look Al in the face? Or any of his children?

Before he realised it, Al had climbed off his lap and lowered his robes again.

"Have you learned your lesson?" Harry somehow managed and finally looked up at Al's face. His eyes were red, his cheeks streaked with tears, and yet his expression was pure bliss.

Al shivered as if in anticipation. "I think you might need to reinforce it again, just to be sure." 

Harry suppressed a shiver of his own. 

He sat there long after Al cleaned himself up and Floo'd back to Hogwarts.

"Did you find administering corporal punishment to the boy satisfactory?" Phineas's voice said from his empty portrait.

Harry felt laughter bubble up inside him, feeling slightly mad. "More than, I'd say, Phineas. More than."

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the 2018 HP Next Gen Fest. The creator will be revealed on November 30.


End file.
